


Can I be close to you

by lostinfictionalworlds



Series: Forevermore [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: #domesticbliss, #friends, #husbands, #klaine, #lazymornings, #sunnywalks, #waking up, 6x13 reaction drabbles, Canon Divergent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3850069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinfictionalworlds/pseuds/lostinfictionalworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a collection of random drabbles out of chronological order from my post 6x13 series. Fic inspired by and title taken from the song Bloom by the Paperkites. It’s gorgeous, please listen to it. </p><p>Lazy waking up together, sunny walks and cuddling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can I be close to you

_Blaine_

The early morning sun warm and welcoming peeks its way through the almost closed blinds and pulled out curtains of their bedroom window, in the smallest gap it could find. The golden rays spread out evenly, flowing through the soft fluffy neutral shades of the carpet like a tidal wave and up on to the bed.

 

The moment the sun hits bare and bronzed skin, a mop of dark haired head stirs, inhaling a deep breath through his nose, grumbling low in his chest. As the warmth of the sun spreads up to the top half of his naked, smooth torso and up onto his face, he turns his head slightly on the pillow and snuffles lightly when soft hair tickles his nose.

 

His own dark curls fan out on the pillow beneath him as his mind already starts to process a string of endless words. He could write letters, songs, books with these words about this very moment, every single morning.

 

As his body starts to wake up lazily and slowly he turns over, his arm reaching, hand flexing and grabbing slowly, body bending instinctively to fit nicely alongside the other body still sleeping blissfully, carefree beside him.

He allows his eye lids to flutter at the stroking sensation of the full head of hair that he buries his nose into, breathing in deeply, he doesn’t open his eyes properly, doesn’t want to be fully conscious, _not yet_.

 

He loves this feeling, being stuck in the place between deep peaceful slumber and slow easy wakefulness. His favourite part always comes next. He smiles slightly to himself when the sun finally reaches its destination and warms his entire face as it starts to creep up the wall behind the head rest behind him and up to the clock on the wall ticking away lazily, reminding them it’s still early as sin but they have the whole day together. _They have forever_.

 

As he settles fully on his side, he tucks a knee in between the pair of legs that lie lean and firm beside his, he wraps his arm fully around the naked back of the sleeping body and presses his left hand firmly, fingers spread against the left side of the other person’s smooth hairless chest. His fingers slowly wriggle and stroke, feeling the blood pump beneath and the steady boom boom of a heart beat.

 

This is home, this is him, them. One heartbeat becomes two and two becomes one again. His love, his life _._ The smooth cool surface of the platinum ring on his finger rubs gently against pale, creamy skin. He smiles even more at the thought of it and pushes his face deeper into the softness. He moves his head slightly side to side, rubbing his nose though shampooed, soft locks, nuzzling, inhaling, encouraging himself to wake more, and his love beside him.

 

He tilts his head lower and presses his lips firm yet soft to bare skin, the nape of this other man’s neck is one of his favourite places. It smells like fresh soap and clean sweat combined. It’s everyday normal, it’s comfort. _It’s him, it’s them._

 

“Good morning Blaine” his lips break out into a wide, lazy, toothy smile at the sound of the scratchy, morning-broken whispered voice he recognises and loves so, so very much.  He will always want and need to hear that voice.

 

His arms automatically wrap tighter around the body in front of him and he starts to move his lips. He needs to be close, always close.

 

“Good Morning Kurt”

 

*

 

_Kurt_

 

They walk through dry, heated golden fields, the air thick and warm and hazy around them, hands grasping softly but firm together.

 

He rubs his little finger gently over the familiar metal band that hugs the slightly shorter man’s ring finger on his left hand, sure and proud. His thumb on his left hand copies the action on his own matching ring, his thumbnail scratching lightly at the indentation of the tiny engraved cursive writing on the unseen part of the metal.

 

They move slowly, unhurriedly through the dirt trail to their destination. They know where they’re headed. _They always know where to go, where to be._ They have it worked out now.

The easy morning rays burn brighter and hotter as it moves up higher in the sky, over and up the horizon. He smiles as he feels the heat on his bare arms and legs though he knows he’ll be in the comfort of the shade soon before the ivory pigment of his skin starts to blotch and redden.

 

He turns, looking down a little to watch the glimmer of the sun shine through dark curls that belong to the man next to him. The light bounces off the full head of raven hair, now abandoned of gel. It looks almost autumn coloured in this light, Kurt notes, with hues of reds and browns in the bright of the sun and pale blue sky.

 

His bright green-blue eyes skim down to the unclothed, tanned shoulders and broad chest, hugged tightly and complimentary so by a light grey tank top.

 

Hazel eyes snap up, meeting a sea of green and blue in that instant, the glare of the sun shows flecks of green in the light honeyed eyes and the other pair almost glass like.

 

Wide toothy smiles are exchanged but no words, _sometimes there wasn’t need for words._ Not after all this time.

They arrive at their destination a hand full of moments later. He heads straight for the wide oak tree trunk and pulls out the large blanket that had been tucked under his arm. He spreads it out evenly, softly over the green blades, starting at the base of the trunk and ending just outside the line where sun meets cooling shade.

 

He sinks down on top of the bright, chequered fabric, comfortably up against the oak, underneath the shade of dozens of thick branches, and lush leaves fanning out into the open air. He spreads his legs, knees bent, relaxing as the short, soft blades of the spring grass below cools his warm skin.

 

He kicks off his sandals and holds his feet suspended in the air until they’re met with the warm skin of a bare stomach and just a light spattering of fine, dark hair. The torso beneath his feet stretches out horizontally in front of him, caught just in the remaining rays of the sun before the shade of the tree takes over. The dark curly head lies protectively cushioned by his balled up, discarded tank top underneath.

 

Hours then pass, hours of laughing, talking, feeling, singing along to music playing softly from the speakers of a cell phone. Songs with strings and soft voices lulling them into pure afternoon bliss.

 

His toes curl and rubs against familiar skin and bone, as he thinks about the memories of this place and all the times they’ve shared here. _If only the trees could talk, what stories lay beyond the leaves._

 As the air starts to cool and the shade starts to spread beyond the shadows of the twigs and leaves, they walk back the way they came, hands grasping at waists and fingers tickling exposed skin as the sky changes from blues to reds to purples and darkens. Paving the way for night time.

 

*  

 

_Blaine_

 

Later, when the sky is black save for a few dots twinkling high above, and when the sun has sunk low where it can’t be seen until hours later, when noises outside are quieting and the city sleeps and the warmth of the day starts to cool around their bodies; they wrap themselves up in the sheets, in and around themselves.

 

They lay entwined chest to back, breathing heavy and calm and in time, arms holding each other close, _always close._

He hears the last words of the day, the only words he needs to hear. He feels them rumble against his back, his skin, they tingle down his spine and pump through his veins. _Close, always close._

 

“Good Night Blaine, I Love you”

 

He smiles as sleep starts to take him, but not before he mumbles sleepily,

 

“My world is you Kurt”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
